


Weaponised Show Tunes

by LHBelle



Series: Paulkins One-Shots [1]
Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alice (mentioned) - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Apotheosis, F/M, Fluff, Nora (Mentioned) - Freeform, One Shot, Pining, Rivalry/Friendship, Song Lyrics, Teasing, Zoey (mentioned) - Freeform, one shot series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23025571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LHBelle/pseuds/LHBelle
Summary: On his way back from Beanies, Paul is accosted by Hatchetfield’s local Greenpeace Girl, who seems to have a flare for the dramatic.
Relationships: Paul Matthews & Greenpeace Girl, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Series: Paulkins One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654843
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	Weaponised Show Tunes

“So you ask her out yet?”

“I’m sorry?” Paul frowned.

Greenpeace Girl, as had become her name in Paul’s head because he’d never known her name and thought it might be weird for him to ask, was at her usual spot on the high street, clipboard tucked under her arm, and wearing a smug, all-knowing look along with her usual outfit of a floral blouse and Greenpeace apron.

“You know who I’m talking about.” Her smirk became even more self satisfied and irritating.

“I don’t think I do.”

 _“Really?”_ Her eyebrows rose higher, “So you _haven’t_ been pinning after one cute ‘lil Barista for over two months?”

Paul could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and knew he must be blushing.  
“No?” He said, but it was weak and came out more like a question.

“Um-hmm, well, that’s good to hear,” She sighed, “I’ll just go right ahead then.”

Paul blinked, “Go right ahead?”

“And ask her out.” She said casually.

Paul felt his stomach drop.

“I’ve been wanting to for weeks now,” She continued airily, “And I think it’s about time to make my move. Girls don’t like to be kept waiting, you know? The longer you wait the less interested they are. It’s practically scientifically proven.”

After a few seconds of mouthing wordlessly, all that Paul could produce was a feeble,  
“You- you can’t.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head curiously, “And why is that?”

“Well, I mean… not that you _can’t,_ I didn’t mean that of course, I just…” Paul back tracked desperately, searching for an explanation, “It’s just b-because I... I like her.”

“A-ha!” A triumphant grin took over Greenpeace Girl’s features and she pointed her clipboard at Paul, “I knew it!” She laughed, waving the clipboard around, “I’m just messing with you, I don’t want to ask her out. I mean, don’t get me wrong she’s cute, but my girlfriend won’t really like it if I did, she’s possessive that way.” She laughed again at her own joke.

Paul looked bewildered.

 _“Oh he pines after a cute lil Barista.”_ Greenpeace Girl sang, doing a little spin, her self satisfied look back.

 _“Shhh!”_ Paul hissed.

They weren’t that far away from Beanies and it sounded way too much like a show-tune for his liking.

 _“Isn’t that worth a show-stopping fiesta yeah.”_ She ignored him.

“It feels like you rehearsed this.”

“Oh I’ve been sitting on that one for weeks.” She grinned, “My girlfriend’s roommate is a total theatre nerd and is always playing soundtracks so I’m very familiar with the concepts. Her current obsession is _Wicked_.”

Paul wrinkled his nose at the prospect, feeling almost sorry for her. Almost.

Unfortunately he knew all about that show because Alice had been really into the _Wizard of Oz_ since she was nine and loved anything to do with it. 

_ “Ba_ _rista, he’s into the Barista-a, but he won’t ask her out, he just sits and pouts, about how much he loves her._ ” She sung to the tune of  _ Popular_. 

Alice also played the soundtrack on repeat when Paul used to babysit her, and seeing how happy she was singing along, Paul hadn’t had the heart to ask her to switch it off.

“Will you please stop! Someone could hear! And I don’t pout, and I am not  _ in love  _ with her.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Greenpeace Girl waved a dismissive hand, “Whatever you need to tell yourself pal. It goes with the song anyway.”

There was a pause, but before Paul could have the luxury of making his escape, she piped up again.

“So when _are_ you going to ask her out?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” He fidgeted, passing his coffee from one hand to the other. Shouldn’t she be berating and guilting commuters into giving her their money, instead of accosting him about his, non existent, love life?

“Well you should take my advice.”

“You haven’t given me an—”

“Girls don’t like to be kept waiting. What’s the worst that can happen? She says no? Then you just go to Starbucks like everyone else.”

Paul sighed, and started down the street. “I’m going to walk away now, have a nice day.” 

_”A nd though you protest, I know what’s best, I know what it is you need.”  _ She sang after him.

* * *

As much as it pained him to admit to himself, Paul knew Greenpeace Girl had a point. And it _really_ pained him.

Anxiety gripped him as he walked into Beanies the next day, tapping his stacked fists together.

And there she was, looking as beautiful as ever, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail today. Paul’s chest tightened. She smiled when she saw him. A real, genuine smile, replacing the tired, board expression she’d been wearing just a second before.

“Hey Paul.” She greeted as he reached the counter. She knew him. She recognised him. This fact never ceased to cheer him up, but it did nothing for his nerves.

“Hello, can I just get a black coffee please?” He managed to say, despite the heat rising in his cheeks and the nervous fluttering in his stomach.

“Sure thing. You’re just in time, I just made a fresh pot.” She smiled again, taking a cup from the stack and pouring in the coffee.

Paul smiled back. It was all he could manage. Greenpeace Girl’s voice rang in his ears, echoing through his head.

‘ _What’s the worst that can happen? She says no?’_

Well yes, that generally was the worst thing that happened when you asked someone out.

_‘Then you just go to Starbucks like everyone else.’_

Thoughts swirled around his head, not making much sense, even to him. If he asked her out and she said no and he then went back to going to Starbucks he wouldn’t get to see her. If he didn’t ask her out then there was still a hundred percent chance he would still get to see her. If he asked her out there was only a fifty percent he would get to keep seeing her. Talking to her. Hearing her laugh. Probably less then fifty, because he very much doubted she liked him back.

_God!_

Why did it have to be so hard!

“Here ya go.” Emma nodded expectantly at the cup she was holding out to him. He’d been so caught up in his spiralling and nerves that he hadn’t even realised.

“Oh, right, yes. Thank you.” He babbled, taking the coffee.

“Are you alright Paul?” Emma asked, inclining her head a fraction, “Cause you look kind of pale.”

Paul swallowed, “No, I’m fine, just, um...”

_Come on Paul! Get it together!_

He took a sip of his coffee whilst he tried to collect he thoughts.

 _Wow_. Had the coffee somehow gotten worse?

_Stop stalling!_

He could do this. “Um, so do you... do you like film?”

Emma’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Film? Um I guess it depends on what kind of film. Why?”

“Oh, um, I was just wondering if... if you maybe wanted to, and it’s okay if you say no,” He said quickly. She’d probably say no. “To go out sometime?“ There was a pause. “With me.” He clarified stupidly.

The surprise on Emma’s face morphed into a smirk in a matter of seconds. “Took you long enough.” She quipped.

“What?”

She grinned. “I thought you’d never ask me out, I was starting to get impatient. Yes I would like to got out with you sometime.”

Relief, jubilation and stunned euphoria, flooded Paul, washing over his brain and silencing all the nerves and doubts that had plagued him all morning.

* * *

Five minutes later, he left Beanies with what he knew was a goofy, lovestruck grin on his face, but he didn’t care. And he didn’t care that he‘d technically ran over his allotted break time, because in his wallet was a receipt with the most important set of numbers ever combined scribbled on it. A fact that Lola (what’d you know Greenpeace Girl  _did_ have a real name that _wasn’t_ printed on her uniform) smugly took all the credit for. 

But at least she didn’t sing about it.


End file.
